Review Summary: Four, seven, nine, nine, ten, three, one, five, one, two, three out of five
During the Cold War era of history, strange shortwave radio stations started to appear practically everywhere around the globe. These stations mostly composed of mysterious samples of people reciting numbers in a seemingly random sequence and, depending which station you tuned into, these cryptic messages where usually performed in a variety of languages, from English to German to Spanish, etcetera. Rumor has it, it was also illegal to listen to these stations back then, so if you were caught tuning into one of these stations, even if unintendedly, then tough luck for you.
Iridal Discs’ 1997 compilation
The Conet Project: Recordings of Shortwave Numbers Stations compiles hours upon hours of recorded “number messages”, which was all put together by label owner and number station enthusiast Akin Fernandez. It’s an intriguing listen that, in a way, has an odd spine chilling quality to it. I’m not entirely sure why this is, however. Maybe it’s due to its history, or maybe it’s because of the overall cold atmosphere that haunt the recordings. The opening track “(G2A) The Swedish Rhapsody” includes a sample of a little girl counting in German. This might not sound so odd if it weren't for the fact that the little girl sounds like a robot. The lo-fi hiss that hides behind the girl’s mechanical voice samples adds this real spooky vibe to the track, making you wonder exactly just why there were stations made to just broadcast stuff like this.
That’s essentially the overall tone of the album. The unnerving atmosphere that these static-filled radio recordings create gives the record this charm to it, a charm that is improved with tracks that throw in little semi-musical numbers, such as “(G3) Gong Station/Chimes”. Like it’s title would suggest, the track begins with odd, almost out-of-tune sounding gong chimes, which abruptly stop and is replaced by frantic counting by yet another strange robotic voice. Fuzzy electronic squeals, hisses, and bleeps ice the track, making it even more cold than it already is. As great and atmospheric as these tracks are, however, it does become a little predictable and boring after a while to hear, making the replay value of the compilation very low. The fourth disc, however, is perhaps the best out of the entire set.
The fourth disc not only includes recordings of number stations, but even a few
noise stations, which is a major treat for fans of the genre. Tracks such as “(XC) The Crackle” and “(XM) The Backwards Music Station” in particular are very worthy of mention. “(XC) The Crackle” consists of loud, ominous radio crackling that literally sounds as if your ears are deteriorating as you’re listening. “(XM) The Backwards Radio Station” is unearthly; the way the signals just moan and cry is daunting, and the occasional squeal and distortion is nothing short of surprising.
As mentioned earlier,
The Conet Project: Recordings of Shortwave Numbers Stations is certainly not the album you put on repeat for hours on end. It’s the kind of recording where you only listen to different tracks individually, the kind of thing where you can easily see yourself skipping through many tracks during a “full” listen. Still, the gloomy and mysterious atmosphere that warrants the compilation is something not to be missed, making it the kind of thing that deserves at least one full listen by anyone.
